


A Little Sip of Heaven

by shieldstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Dean Winchester, British Slang, F/M, I Swear A Lot, M/M, Nerd Dean, Punk Castiel, a load of my crappy indie music gets involved, first multichapter!, gratuitous nerd references, i'm supposed to be revising, lgbt woc oc because fuck you patriachy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 13:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldstiel/pseuds/shieldstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester went in to buy a cup of decent coffee. What he came out with is an enormous crush on the hot, tattooed barista with the great ass and dependent boyfriend. But that's okay because now the entire goddamn staff is involved. His friends are all batshit insane and all Dean wants to do is get his BEng and graduate, is that too much to ask?<br/>UNBETAED-FIRST CHAPTER-FEEDBACK V MUCH APPRECIATED (AKA REQUIRED)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Sip of Heaven

Well, that was over quickly.

Dean's latest attempt at a relationship, Lisa, had just dumped him in the park where he had volunteered to go walk her annoying Yorkie with her on this irritatingly sunny Saturday afternoon. Dean was 100% sure that the dog was laughing at him the entire time. It even had the gall to take a dump next to Dean before running off to its heartbreaker owner.

It had lasted, what? 3 months, tops? It was still a hell of a lot longer than his previous relationships that all seemed to end with the same words-"I don't think it's working any more." Which essentially meant that there was something wrong with Dean that prevented him from even dating anyone for more than 10 weeks. Maybe it was his collection of cult TV boxsets, he mused bitterly. Or the fact that he owned every Zeppelin album in every format imaginable. Okay he'll admit that last one was a bit creepy but you gotta let a man have his music.

His self deprecating train of thought was interrupted by the loud growl of his stomach, he hadn't eaten since his dinner of pizza and beer last night and it was nearly 10 o'clock already. He was on foot so he couldn't exactly get some artery clogging burger from the closest but still far away KFC and a quick look around on the main street told him that there was a distinct lack of fast food or even non-white food in Lisa's oh-so-cosmopolitan neighbourhood.

There was a little patisserie with an adjoining cafe just a few yards away that wasn't too crowded looking which seemed promising.

The sign was shaped like a fluffy cloud with two cartoon angels at the sides, a cheeky looking hazel eyed one with golden wings holding a gateau and the other who was holding a coffee mug was decidedly more punk rock with tattoos and piercings but his cherubic baby blues matched his black wings.

A Little Sip of Heaven, it read in cutesy bubble writing.

Dean wondered if the cheesy theme continued inside and whether the owners were the angels on the sign. Might as well find out, he thought, the next place he could eat was too far away for his rumbling stomach.

The speaker behind the door emitted a loud screechy "LOKI'D" when he stepped in which made him jump two feet in the air and simultaneously made his inner nerd want to high five the guy behind it.

There was a snort of laughter from one of the servers on the bakery side of the store, the one who looked a hell of a lot like Goldiwings from the sign.

"Every time," he breathed through giggles and his co-worker rolled her eyes, offering Dean an apologetic grimace.

Dean looked around for any kids that may be watching and then flipped the man off before decided to get some coffee first then deal with food; hopefully the nice Indian chick would still be there when he orders.

The exact moment he turned to the coffee shop for his caffeine fix was when Dean Winchester fell in love.

The guy behind the counter was possibly the most beautiful man he'd seen in his short life of 21 years and 3 years of being bisexual (he had a gay panic in high school, it took a while to come out, don't judge).

The sign was just a poor caricature of the actual person because there was no way that it could even begin to render the alternative but still attractive looks of the barista.

He had shockingly blue eyes with eyeliner artfully smudged around them and an unshaven jaw that was effortlessly pulled off just like his messy hairstyle of dip dyed blue with shaven sides. There were at least 5 piercings that Dean could see, the eyebrow bar being most prominent along with the lip ring and small stretchers. His sleeve tattoos extended into his tight black David Bowie t-shirt and depicted Biblical imagery of rosaries, angels and crosses.

Dean knew he was stood there gawking like an idiot so he urged himself to approach this punk Adonis that God had gifted humanity, trying to pass it off as looking at the menu.

Feeling uncomfortable and inadequate in his Batman t-shirt and dark jeans with thick rimmed glasses that just screamed 'NERD', he fidgeted with the frames and then Dean's throat suddenly got a hell of a lot more dryer as he drew level with the previous customer.

The barista had a deep, rumbling voice that Dean could easily imagine be highly in demand for those sex chat lines, as he sympathised with whatever the woman was saying as she paid.

"Next please?"

Dean tore his eyes away from the nametag reading 'Castiel' and coughed in an attempt to cover up the staring.

"Um..." a desperate look at the board above the barista's head and his mouth recited the first thing he saw, "C-could I have a mocha please?" Dean mumbled, cursing silently when he realised his stutter had reappeared. He'd gotten over that shit in middle school but it still cropped up when Dean felt really nervous.

"Sure," Castiel smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners and Dean numbly wondered if he could be more flawless. "Marshmallows and cream?"

"Erm, yeah, go ahead." God, if Sam was ordering this, Dean would be tickling him until the kid admitted he was a pansy ass little shit.

"Nice one, I'm rather partial to sweet coffee myself but that might just be my brother's influence from over the years."

"My baby brother's the opposite, he's such a health freak that it's a traumatic experience every time he makes dinner." Dean could feel himself loosen up and he noiselessly thanked the man for bringing up a subject that he was well-versed in.

"Oh really? I have a feeling that your brother and I would get along very well then. Well, I fall off the wagon when it comes to burgers but what's one guilty pleasure, huh?" he shrugged, grinning as his hands worked the machines as fluently as Dean's with the cars at the garage.

Yeah, just one guilty pleasure, Dean thought as he made plans to start coming here whenever he could.

"I don't think I've seen you here before, I recognise all of my regulars." Castiel continued, completely unaware he had gained a stalker.

"Uh, I've never been in before, I was just on foot for once and it was food time according to my digestion system." Great, talking about your bowels already, Winchester? Way to screw it up. The guy seemed unfazed though and carried on the conversation without a twitch.

"Oh really? Well, Gabriel over there may be an ass but he's my brother and I know for a fact that he makes the best muffins in town. Try the blueberry, you won't regret it." Castiel grinned and held out his sugary nightmare of a beverage.

"I'm Dean. Dean Winchester." he blurted, immediately regretting it.

"Well, Dean Dean Winchester, I'm Castiel and that will be $3.50. Enjoy."

Dean quickly handed him the money and murmured a thanks and 'yeah, he will' and took the coffee before he messed up even more by breathing.

He bought two blueberry muffins fresh out of the oven as per Castiel's recommendation from the woman from before (Kali) and found a small table near the corner where he could stress in peace but was still near enough the till to listen to/check out Cas.

"Might as well, right?" he muttered, eyeing the large mocha dotted with pink and white mini marshmallows.

Thinking of blue eyes and tattooed arms, he took a deep breath and sipped the drink that completely changed his view on coffee.

 _This is actually okay, better than okay_ , he thought with small moan. The name of the store was wholly accurate. How far was this from campus again? Licking the froth from his lips, Dean looked up to find Castiel staring at him with parted lips looking like a deer caught in headlights with his hand still reaching for the syrup.

Awkward.

Dean gave the guy a thumbs up and a grin which seemed to break the trance, Cas sent him a pleased nod and continued serving the brunette with a small amused smile.

Oh god, he did a thumbs up. Someone shoot him now. Actually no, he did not deserve a merciful, painless death. Hand him over to Ramsay Bolton.

Dean fixed his gaze at the grain of the wood table to hide the blush that was quickly growing under his freckles (it was that time of year again) and slid his phone out to text the only person who could understand his pain. A lesbian.

 **To: Charlie Bradbury**  
**From: Dean Winchester**  
_Charlie._  
_CHARLIE._  
_C H A R L I E_

He waited for his best friend to reply and started on the muffins which were just as pornographically amazing. He could almost forgive Cas's brother for being a dick, they tasted like they should be the food of the gods.

 **To: Dean Winchester**  
**From: Charlie Bradbury**  
_sweet lord of the rings, what happened dean??? xo_

 **To: Charlie Bradbury**  
**From: Dean Winchester**  
_I have met God in the form of a tattooed barista, what the fuck do I do._

 **To: Dean Winchester**  
**From: Charlie Bradbury**  
_ooooooh, deanie weanie have a crush? also, lisa???_

 **To: Charlie Bradbury**  
**From: Dean Winchester**

_This guy is literally sex, hold on I'll send a pic+she broke up with me, I'm fine_

Dean casually raised his phone, trying to look like he couldn't get signal and quickly snapped a pic of Castiel lounging against the counter, scribbling on a clipboard. The stream of people had slowed down, most had decided to go eat in the now glorious seeming weather and were taking their frappes 'to go'.

 **To: Charlie Bradbury**  
**From: Dean Winchester**  
_SEE._  
_Media file attached (29 kB). Tap to download and view._

 **To: Dean Winchester**  
**From: Charlie Bradbury**  
_THAT MAN IS MAKING ME QUESTION MY HOMOSEXUALITY. DEAN IF YOU DONT TAP DAT I WILL STEAL YOUR BLURAY STAR TREK DISCS._  
_sorry about lisa though xo_

 **To: Charlie Bradbury**  
**From: Dean Winchester**  
_Why do you think I'm texting you? I've been awe of you ever since you got to 3rd with that faery chick 10 minutes after we met her+Meh, I wasn't really into it, she was right. help me here though please?_

 **To: Dean Winchester**  
**From: Charlie Bradbury**  
_ok ok, ive never picked up a barista before but methinks that maybe become a regular? hell have to make convo! itll take time, you sure its worth it??? xo_

 **To: Charlie Bradbury**  
**From: Dean Winchester**  
_You haven't even heard him yet. Trust me, he's worth it. Oh fuck, he's hskeknd_

Castiel had chosen that moment to walk over and Dean's fingers slipped over the screen, adding the gobbledygook and sending it.

"Hello, Dean."

Personally, Dean wanted to know whether his voice sounded even better after sex but he'll take what he can get.

"Oh, hey Cas." he replied, casually as if he totally hadn't been fangirling about the man seconds ago whilst he stood a metre away.

_Cas? Where did that come from?_

Clearly the barista thought the same as he cocked his head in question.

"Sorry, I have a nicknaming thing, I can call you Castiel if you want?" Dean winced, the social faux pas was now forever ingrained into his memory and to be cringed about in the dead of night.

"No, no it's fine, I like it." The piercing stare again, the one that took you to pieces and analysed each one before putting you together again. "So, um, you like muffins? I mean, the blueberry ones?"

"You knew exactly what I needed, I am so coming here again! Any suggestions for next time?" Dean grinned, underneath the table his hand was clenching tightly onto his leg, the pain of his nails digging into his thigh giving him the strength to not shut down.

He tried to concentrate on something else. A brunette had taken over the coffee machines, facing away from him.

Cas leaned forward and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. "I heard that if a certain bespectacled customer does come back, there'll be a special Batman-themed chocolate cupcake waiting for him with a certain tattooed barista."

"A certain customer will be sure to be back next Saturday then," he mock confided, mimicking Cas's movement until they were inches apart.

Castiel licked his lips, tongue flicking over his lip ring and quickly straightened up again.

"That's the end of my shift then. I'm gonna get going, essays call my name. See you next week!"

And with that, he walked off leaving Dean with sweaty palms and a perfect view of that ass in skin-tight leather pants.

He turned back to his mocha, the marshmallows had formed melted clouds on the chocolate froth sky.

The deal was done, Dean was now forever sworn to the man just like he was to the girl on the subway, the busker in the park and the library guy, all who had slipped away from him. It was sure as hell not gonna happen this time.

"Meg."

His attention snapped up to his newest visitor, the brunette barista from before that was called Meg clearly. She was short and round-faced with curly tresses in a bun, wearing a faded purple t-shirt and jeans combo teamed with a necklace that looked like it had a story. Oh and looked like she could commit murder by just raising a well-groomed eyebrow. A random part of his mind wondered who was manning the counter.

"Uh..."

"He's gorgeous, isn't he? You don't need to reply, your face is red. I've known the guy since we were in diapers and can safely tell you that he bats mainly for your team, secretly loves Taylor Swift and oh yeah, is in a relationship." she drawled out, pulling up a chair and straddling the seat.

"Oh. Well." Dean's hopes and dreams died in that second, the Star Wars themed wedding with Bowie's _Starman_ for the first dance now out of the window.

"You're not a man of many words, you? Don't reply actually, it's better this way. Thing is the BF is just a high school sweetheart turned dependent, asshole alcoholic that lives back home. Me and the big bro over there-" she gestured to Douchebag who saluted in reply, "-have been looking for someone to fuck the whole thing up for years. Guess who won the raffle?"

"But why me?" Dean frowned, his placid crush was now becoming a shitstorm of issues.

His attention still went back to the line of customers that had drifted from coffeehouse to the bakery in search of service only to be shooed away by Gabriel who was watching the two intensely. Kali smacked him in the back of the head with a pair of tongs and strode across to the coffee machine with a look of utter exasperation on her face.

"You're the only guy that he's paid attention to that I have seen with mine own eyes and I sure ain't letting you run off. You're coming back, right? You're not a complete moron, are you? Good, here's my number, his number and Gabriel's number, text if you need anything, advice, tips, roofies, whatever." She said, shoving a written on serviette into his hand.

"Thanks but surely Cas can make his own decisions on who he wants to date, I don't care if it's not me, but I'm not a goddamn homewrecker."

"Cas? Hah, I can't wait until I tell Gabe. The reason why he hasn't dumped Chicken Balti's sorry ass is because nostalgia of days gone by and also the fact that the guy's an unstable wreck so the dork frets over what's gonna happen to him without his 'rock'. Dickhead's words, not mine. You in or what?" Meg demanded, resting her chin on the back of the unfortunate chair she was mishandling.

"I don't kn-"

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6-"

"Okay okay, Jesus okay." Dean cut in, worn down and trying not to overthink.

That's how Dean found himself staring at his phone in his dorm later that night, a new message ready to go with Castiel's number typed in.

_Hey, Meg gave me your number-_

No, that implicated Meg and probably conveyed the masterplan. He deleted it and typed out another message.

_Hey, its Dean from the cafe. I got your number from Meg and was wondering-_

Decent start but then what? What if he shoots you down? What if he actually wants to be with his boyfriend? Why was this so fucking hard?

He groaned into his hands and left his phone on the side, moving back to his laptop instead to start bashing out a half-assed essay on the environmental impacts of fracking for his Chemistry class.

God, he couldn't wait until next Saturday.

His roommate, an Asian junior with serious karate skills, bellyflopped onto the bed and moaned into his pillow. That was pretty much how Dean was feeling too.

"How was the date, Kev?" He asked, focused on finding the exact font that really conveyed the seriousness of the matter. What was the topic again?

Kevin had gone into the wrong lab, made a girl drop a beaker of (thankfully) dilute hydrochloric acid over herself and managed to walk out with her number. Dean had taken to calling him Master Tran.

"She looked so great and I think it went okay but oh my god, she's so out of my league. Double majoring, a massive geek, freaking vice-president of a society and cute, I found every man's fantasy in a chemistry lab singing Shake It Off." Kevin mumbled into the pillow.

"And she went out with you, not anyone else. At least she's not already in a relationship..." Dean sighed, thoughts straying back to Cas.

"I'm sensing a story here," he frowned, finally raising his head. "Trilogy time?"

"Trilogy time. I'm gonna run to get some drinks, you call the gang and get it set up. May the force be with you."

"And with you, Dean Winchester!" Kevin yelled as Dean grabbed the keys to Impala and ran out.

Browsing the shelves of the campus supermarket, he wondered if he could talk about the impact of celebrity support on awareness of fracking. By celebrity support, he meant Mark Ruffalo but still. Note to self: Find out if you can use Mark Ruffalo tweets as a scholarly source.

Rounding the corner, his trolley collided into a guy who's face was masked by...5 baguettes?

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" he apologised fervently, bending to pick the bread up and straightening to see...

"No, it's quite alright, Dean." A familiar grit filled voice replied, taking the bread from his arms with warm hands brushing his bare forearms. "It was my fault, I should have taken the initiative to get a trolley."

Castiel had changed into a looser, full sleeved green shirt that simply stated 'I SCREAM. YOU SCREAM. WE ALL SCREAM BECAUSE THE WORLD IS DYING.' and a pair of black jeans that didn't constrict blood flow.

"Uh, nice shirt," Dean said because the only other thing that was going through his mind was 'oh God, I want to cum staring into your beautiful fucking eyes' which really wasn't appropriate for the second time he'd met him.

"My brother is a militant eco-warrior, I wear it because it's comfortable. Are you having a party?" he asked, gesturing to the copious amounts of alcohol that Dean was just legal to buy and 5 packets of Doritos.

"Not really, just some friends coming over to rewatch Star Wars. It's sort of a monthly bonding thing that accidentally happened in the first week of college," he said, startlingly aware of how pathetic he sounded.

Castiel blinked. "I've never watched Star Wars."

Anxiety out of the metaphorical window, Dean hissed out a strangled exclamation.

"Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Not really, I was just going to make my sandwiches for the week today instead and read some class bo-" Cas started, frowning down at his baguettes.

"You're coming to my dorm and you will watch Star Wars and you will love it. Tanith Bespoke building, room 275. See you there!" Dean yelled over his shoulder as he jogged down the aisle, he'd felt the breakdown coming and needed to get out asap.

The smiling figure of Cas saluted and headed towards the veg section, still carrying his 5 fucking baguettes.

Dean kept moving until he was out of sight and then promptly collapsed over the trolley.

"Fuck my fucking life."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this, all feedback is appreciated. I posted this for the masses to see, I will continue if there is a demand for it.  
> Please comment and/or kudos, each individual reader is very important to me. If you don't have an account and would like to comment, you can email me at thetricksterlokilaufeyson@gmail.com


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